


All These Thoughts I've Been Saving

by 221BSunsetTowers



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, BAMF Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kaer Morhen, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Whump, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221BSunsetTowers/pseuds/221BSunsetTowers
Summary: All Geralt wants to do is ask Jaskier to stay with him, to come to Kaer Morhen this winter. But he can't find the words.All Jaskier wants to do is stay with Geralt. But then he overhears some cruel words about his Witcher.Geralt never imagined the way Jaskier would arrive at Kaer Morhen would be on the edge of death with a dagger protuding from his stomach and a dent in his skull, with no words.(No major character death, I promise)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 28
Kudos: 526





	All These Thoughts I've Been Saving

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Sober by Kelly Clarkson.
> 
> From the prompt "Don't move, they hit your head really hard.", from sparklemagpie.
> 
> Rating is for some swearing and blood.

Geralt wouldn’t trade the pain in his neck right now for anything. The uncomfortable tilt of his head meant he could keep his gaze on Jaskier’s face while the bard slept on, his head resting on Geralt’s chest, body cradled in the Witcher’s arms, four legs tangled together under the blankets.

  
This would be their last day together before they split apart for the winter, Geralt to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier to Oxenfurt, and Geralt didn’t have the words he wanted, only the inability to string together the syllables to ask his bard to come with him, not to leave him. So he lay still, taking in every feature of Jaskier’s face, soft and relaxed as he slept.

  
"Only you could stare quite so loudly, my Witcher," Jaskier murmured with a smile, nuzzling his face into Geralt's neck. Without even looking, he reached up and laid a finger directly across Geralt's mouth. "And don't you start apologizing, Geralt, I adore that you can't keep your eyes off of me." Finger trailing from Geralt's mouth down to right above the start of the blanket, Jaskier sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his rumpled hair. "We should start getting ready. I worry about you making such a long journey already, let alone once winter truly arrives."

  
Both men sat on opposite sides of the bed now, Geralt gazing at the wall, Jaskier twisting his hands together and apart. Nodding, Geralt tried to turn off awareness of everything but the muscles in his legs, focus only on the action of standing with no emotions or thoughts attached. 

  
He found this so much harder than he used to.

  
By the time he had started getting dressed, Jaskier was finished, pack and lute slung across his back, and heading for the stairs. "I'll go scavenge up some easy breakfast for the road, meet me downstairs when you're ready," he called over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

  
One piece of armor on, the next piece of armor on. Checked swords. Checked swords again. Counted potions even though no spots are empty. Sighing, Geralt looked around the room one last time, eyes lingering on the rumpled bedsheets before he too walked out the door and closed it behind him.

  
As he descended the stairs, he noticed the tavern nearly empty, the crowd of bodies pressed against the front door, almost knocking each other over to see whatever it was occurring outside. Geralt moved towards the door only because he needed to get outside, not because of any desire to know what the group of early morning drunks and curiousity seekers were staring at.

  
Until he heard a scream of pain, intense pain, and took off running, barreling through the crowd, not even registering the swearing and stumbling that he left in his wake.   
Geralt had seen horror and blood in his lifetime, bodies torn to shreds, innocent children who never even made it out of their beds, but this, this was a thousand times worse, this was the thing that stopped him in his tracks. His instincts stuttered to a stop, his body froze, every lesson that had been beaten into him fleeing from his head.

  
Because it was Jaskier in front of him, in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by his own circle of men, kicking and punching and stomping on his bard. And there was blood, so much blood. It looked like a battle scene Geralt himself might leave behind when a monster had finally been vanquished. Not all the blood was Jaskier's, that much was clear from the various deep cuts his attackers were covered in. One even had a slash on his arm that went clear through to the bone.

  
But Jaskier was on the ground, not moving, eyes shut, blood dribbling from the side of his so still mouth, a dagger protuding from his stomach. "Jaskier!" The name burst from Geralt in a growl so terrible it had the men already turning tail to run, in a sob so painful it stunned the crowd into silence. Dropping to his knees next to Jaskier, Geralt gently lifted his head into his lap, horrified to discover more blood surrounding a dent in Jaskier's skull. It took everything he had to swallow the bile rising up into his throat, and the effort made him gasp.

  
"'alt?" Jaskier mumbled, trying to turn his head towards the sound. 

  
"It's me, Jask, everything's going to be fine," Geralt tried to keep his voice steady, like always, like a Witcher did, but every word was shaking as hard as his hands were. "Don't move, they hit your head really hard."

  
"They were insulting a Witcher," a woman spoke up suddenly from the crowd still gathered. Geralt could smell the fear radiating off her, but then she looked at him again and he could tell the moment the fear transformed into sadness and sympathy. "They were calling the Witcher a monster, and the young man there, he was packing food into a pouch when they said it to them, and he was immediately on them, he was. He was winning too, I swear he was, until more of their friends came up running to hold him down. They called him a-" The woman paused, blushing, staring down at the ground, her words running together even faster. "They insinuated he-that you and he-together, and he told them he would be so lucky, and that's when the one hit his head with the rock, and the other stabbed him through his stomach, so..." She trailed off, before her next words came out a whisper. "We're right sorry about him, your friend, so we are."

  
Geralt thought he nodded his head at her in thanks, but he couldn't be sure, every part of his being so completely wrapped up in the weak hold Jaskier now had on him, Jaskier clutching at Geralt's hand with featherlight fingers soaked in red. There would be time for rage later, but now there was only time for Jaskier.

  
"Wouldn't change...not a thing..." Jaskier's voice was fading so fast, but Geralt could hear every gutwrenching word. 

  
"Stay with me, please, stay right here," Geralt begged, pressing his hands over whatever wound looked the worst, but there were so many, and they were all so terrible, his hands were constantly in motion, trembling and slipping. "I need a healer!" 

  
"We don't have one here." Geralt thought it was the same woman again. "Nearest one isn't for miles."

  
"It's..." The pause between words, between breaths was getting longer, Jaskier was being stretched thin. "It's okay...glad...glad you're here, with me."

  
"I'm not going anywhere." For the first time in more years than Geralt could remember, he felt tears sliding down his face, faster and faster, landing on Jaskier's doublet and mixing with the endless stream of blood. "And you don't go anywhere either, you stay right here with me."

  
"I love you," Jaskier gasped out, and his fingers dropped, his eyes closed, and Geralt could feel each of Jaskier's breaths getting shorter, coming slower, and Geralt screamed, the sound erupting from his throat one he could not recognize. He was choking on tears, and growling, and screaming Jaskier's name, and then he was screaming Yennifer's name, ripping the xenovox from his bag.

  
Geralt knew Yennifer had arrived from the push of magic from behind, and the loud gasp she let out when she saw Jaskier. She immediately knelt down next to the bard, her fingers hovering over his body. 

  
"Please Yen, you have to fix him," Geralt was pleading now, and the look Yennifer gave him was full of sorrow and little hope. "Please, take us to Kaer Morhen, please Yen. He'll be safe there while you heal him."

  
Nodding, Yennifer tried to smile, but Geralt could see her hands shake as she created the portal. Geralt carefully lifted Jaskier into his arms, cradling his head, supporting his back to not jostle the dagger sticking out of his front. When he took the next step, they were directly outside Kaer Morhen, and there were Witchers running out towards them, but Geralt didn't even register them. Striding past them, he hurried as fast as he dared to his room, gently laying Jaskier out on the bed before turning pleading eyes towards Yennifer.

  
"You did the right thing not taking the dagger out," Yennifer said, and Geralt gave a tight nod. "But we have to take it out now if we have any chance for the wound to heal." 

  
"It will heal," Geralt said determinedly, and Yennifer laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

  
"Of course," she said, eyes kind, but even she couldn't hide the deep concern that flickered through them. "I need you to hold him down in case he awakens while I'm getting the dagger out. It's not going to be pleasant. We need something to press against the bleeding until I can close the wound too."

  
Within seconds, Geralt had tossed every blanket and shirt he could find onto the bed next to Jaskier's still form. Outside the room, Vesemir, Lambert, and Aiden had gathered, staring at the scene in front of them in confusion. "What the fuck is going on?" Lambert yelled across at Geralt, but Geralt ignored him completely, climbing onto the bed, wrapping his hands around Jaskier's biceps, pressing his legs against his bard's, and nodded at Yennifer. 

  
"I've got him, Yen," Geralt promised, and she nodded back.

  
"I know you do," Yennifer said softly, and then took a deep breath, reaching for the dagger. With a swift move, she pulled the dagger out straight, and Jaskier bucked, a scream of pain erupting from his bloodstained lips. 

  
"I'm here, Jaskier, I'm here," Geralt chanted, holding Jaskier down as hard as he dared, resting their foreheads against each other. "You're going to be alright, Yen's here, we're going to take care of you."

  
Jaskier went limp again, and Geralt turned a panicked gaze at Yennifer, but she forced a smile across her face. "That's good, he won't feel this, it's a good thing Geralt." 

  
Stripping Jaskier's clothes off him, down to his smallclothes, Geralt clenched the destroyed doublet between his fingers. "This was one of his favorites," he said softly, and shook his head quickly, as if trying to jostle the thought out of his mind. Letting the doublet fall to the floor, he grabbed the nearest cloth and pressed it against Jaskier's stomach as the blood spilled out. When one cloth was soaked, he reached for another, and another, continuing on until a shirt came up clean, and he saw Yennifer collapse onto the bed.

  
"Yen, are you alright?" Geralt called out, looking over to find Yennifer nodding, an exhausted smile on her face. Taking a deep, slow breath, he looked down at Jaskier. His bard's breathing was steady, all blood vanished, skull smooth and whole, stomach marred only by a faint scar. Geralt felt his body sag in relief, adrenaline pouring out of him in waves and leaving him drained and exhausted.

  
"You saved his life," Yen said, raising herself up enough to squeeze Geralt's shoulder, dipping her head down to meet his eyes with a smile.

  
"He almost died because of me, Yen," Geralt choked out, running a soft hand through Jaskier's sweat-soaked hair. "Those men, they called him names because he was with me, yelled at him that he was sleeping with a monster-"

  
"And of course Jaskier did what Jaskier does," Yen said with a fond chuckle. She lowered her voice so the others couldn't overhear, even with their advanced senses. "Geralt, he chose his actions because he loves you, you know that. And you're not at fault for that. If anything, you actively tried to make him hate you first." This startled a chuckle out of Geralt, who smiled fondly down at Jaskier. "Now, I need to go rest up and recover, and then I need to go see some men about choosing to put their dagger in our bard."

  
"Not without me," Geralt growled, feeling like he could smell the blood all over again. "I need everyone to know what happens if they lay a finger on Jaskier."

  
"Of course," Yennifer nodded, "I wouldn't expect anything less from you." She took Geralt's hands in hers and squeezed them tightly, before standing up. Reaching over, she took Jaskier's hand in hers, holding it for a moment before gently placing it back down on the bed and turning to leave.

  
"Yen," Geralt called, and Yennifer turned around. "Thank you. I wouldn't expect anything less from you either." Yen smiled, and exited the room.

  
“So he fought them because he didn’t like them saying he was fucking a Witcher?” Lambert spat out, crossing his arms over his chest, and Geralt was suddenly reminded of the others in the room. “Don’t understand why you’d give a fuck about someone who would get the shit kicked out of them just to protect their own damn reputation.” Geralt growled loudly, lunging for Lambert.

  
“Didn’t like that they called Geralt a monster,” Jaskier mumbled, and the Witchers spun around, Geralt hurrying to the side of the bed , dropping to his knees as he reached for Jaskier. “Really like the fucking, quite proud of that actually.”

  
“Jaskier,” Geralt’s voice shook as he grabbed Jaskier’s hand, lifting it to his lips.

  
“Hello dear heart,” Jaskier smiled, leaning into Geralt's touch. "I must admit, I wasn't sure I would see you again."

  
"Jask, please don't say that, you-I, I couldn't ever..." With a deep sigh, Geralt lowered his face into the crook of Jaskier's neck, inhaling his scent, taking in deep breaths, feeling his body finally starting to relax.

  
Vesemir ushered the other Witchers out of the room, Lambert calling back with a deep laugh, "Proud of the fucking, I like that, that bard's got balls!"

  
"Well if he approves," Jaskier said, rolling his eyes, and Geralt laughed, and then just as suddenly he was crying, great heaving sobs soaking Jaskier's skin. "Oh sweetheart, Geralt, my love," Jaskier mumured soothingly, laying kisses on every inch of Geralt he could reach, opening his arms as Geralt crawled onto the bed and carefully wrapped himself around his bard, clinging to him tightly.

  
"I love you too," Geralt said softly, feeling the answering catch in Jaskier's breath. Propping himself up on his elbows, cupping Jaskier's face in his hands and bringing their lips together, Geralt pressed their foreheads together. "I should have told you that before. I should have asked you to come with me to Kaer Morhen like I wanted to."

  
"Well, you have me here now," Jaskier teased gently, smiling when he saw the happy crinkle in Geralt's eyes. "There you are, love. My love."

  
"Yours," Geralt promised, moving away just long enough to drag the heavy fur blanket up from the bottom of the bed and over their bodies, before wrapping himself completely around Jaskier again. Feeling Jaskier relax, breathing evening out into a healing sleep, Geralt let his aching muscles sink into the bed, his head resting over Jaskier's heart. "Forever, Jask. Yours."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to come say hi and even leave me some prompts over at 221BSunsetTowers on Tumblr!


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